


Hardy

by Lys ap Adin (lysapadin)



Series: Transplant Arc [3]
Category: Tennis no Oujisama | Prince of Tennis
Genre: M/M, character exploration
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-07-31
Updated: 2006-07-31
Packaged: 2017-10-02 05:08:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lysapadin/pseuds/Lys%20ap%20Adin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Yuuta and Mizuki play a match on a summer's evening.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hardy

**Author's Note:**

> Manga-based arc, divergent past and future.

**_Transplant Arc_  
Hardy**

It was too hot. Even with the sun down for the day, the air was close, thick with humidity, clinging to the skin and making him want to pant for breath like a dog. The fan in his window did nothing more than stir the air, and the sluggish currents dragged over his bare chest like damp velvet, doing nothing to cool him off and everything to highlight just how hot and sticky he was.

Hajime lay on his bed, praying for a cool breeze and hating summer with every fiber of his being, and passed the time by wondering whether it was worth the effort of moving to get to the floor, where the tile might be cooler than his sheets. Before he could decide whether it was or not, someone knocked on his door.

Hajime groaned under his breath, not feeling the least bit inclined to be gracious to anyone in this miserable heat, and ignored the knocking, hoping that whoever it was would take the hint and go away.

They did not, and knocked again. And again, after a few more moments had passed.

Hajime groaned again, audibly this time, and sat up. Propriety demanded that he pull on a shirt, which he did, hating the way the thin cotton stuck to his sweaty skin. "I'm _coming_," he called, when his would-be visitor knocked _again_, and finally opened the door.

Yuuta grinned at him. "Hah. I knew you were home," he said.

"Congratulations," Hajime told him, too short-tempered to spare even Yuuta from his frayed temper. "What can I do for you?"

"It's Saturday night, and I'm bored," Yuuta announced. "I was going to ask you whether you wanted to play some tennis, but you look like you're going to say no." He leaned against Hajime's doorframe, taking a long drink from his soda—which was some kind of abominable neon red, and had stained his mouth and lips red. Hajime suppressed a grimace.

"It's too hot to play tennis," Hajime informed him, since it looked like Yuuta was unfairly comfortable in this oppressive heat. "And I need to study."

Yuuta looked past him, probably taking in the closed laptop and the neat stack of textbooks. "You need to study. Right. Gotcha. You know, there are better things to be doing on a Saturday night." He slurped on his drink again, and the straw rattled. He shook the cup, and popped the lid off, fishing out an ice chip and crunching on it.

Hajime shuddered, delicately. "Don't do that," he said.

Yuuta blinked at him. "Do what?"

Hajime gestured. "Your ice. It's bad for your teeth."

"Hasn't hurt them yet." Yuuta fished out another chip of ice, but sucked on it instead, for which Hajime could only be grateful. "So I guess I can't talk you into playing me?"

"No, Yuuta-kun, you cannot." And he refrained from pointing out that it was ten o'clock, and too late to be playing tennis.

Yuuta sighed, doleful. "Guess I'll have to call Aniki and see if he'll play me," he announced. "He's usually good for a game if he's not busy." He leaned down and scooped up the tennis bag leaning against the wall.

"Then why didn't you call him in the first place?" Hajime asked, faintly exasperated.

Yuuta looked at him. "Because I wanted to play with you," he said, like it was the simplest, most obvious thing in the world.

Hajime looked at him, and opened his mouth to wish him luck in reaching his brother. What came out instead was, "Let me get my shoes on."

Yuuta grinned. "Really?"

"Really." Hajime sighed, turning away to find a pair of socks and lace up his shoes, feeling the sweat already beginning to trickle down his back, and fished his tennis bag out of the closet where it had stayed since the beginning of June.

Yuuta led the way through the halls and out to the sports fields. The night air was, perhaps, marginally cooler than the air in the dorms had been, and Yuuta filled it with a running commentary, touching on the video game he'd beaten earlier, the trials of being team captain and the unfairness of homework assigned over summer break. Hajime let it roll over him, until Yuuta unlocked the tennis clubhouse and ducked inside to turn on the lights for the courts. "Why tennis at ten o'clock at night?"

Yuuta's face glowed under the yellow lights. "Because I knew you'd turn me down for sure if I asked while the sun was still up. You're really pissy when it's hot."

"Thank you for that remarkably candid answer, Yuuta-kun." Hajime stretched as they strolled to the courts. "Smooth or rough?" he asked.

"Rough," Yuuta said, and the spin of the racquet favored him. He chose first serve, and Hajime settled himself at the baseline to wait for Yuuta's serve.

He hadn't played since the consolation match against Hyoutei—had, in fact, avoided tennis entirely since retiring from the team. He'd said it was for the sake of studying, like a good third-year ought, and in the moments when Hajime permitted himself to have doubts, he'd wondered whether anyone had believed that excuse.

Yuuta, on the other hand, seemed to have taken inspiration from his losses at Prefecturals. Hajime wondered, sometimes, what it was like to be so resilient.

Yuuta served, hard, and leaned into the game like it was a tournament match, and it was impossible not to answer that intensity, even though it was hot and he was exhausted, and Hajime soon found himself soaked to the skin with sweat, battling over each point.

Yuuta _had_ been working hard since he'd taken over as captain, which was the right and proper way of things. In the pause as they switched courts, as he gulped in breaths of humid air, Hajime approved of Yuuta's diligence, and the distance he'd come in his training, and surprised himself by realizing that he was enjoying the match, muggy heat and all.

And then Yuuta snapped a return back at him using the Twist Spin shot, taking the point—and the next one the same way, taking the savor out of the game completely.

Hajime let the third Twist Spin blow past him completely, and throttled down the sick feeling in his gut as Yuuta tucked his tennis racquet under his arm and came around the net. "Mizuki-san? You okay?" he asked.

"You shouldn't use that shot," Hajime said, looking away from Yuuta. "It's going to destroy your shoulder."

Yuuta astonished him by laughing. Hajime looked back at him, hands tightening into fists at his sides. Did Yuuta think he was _joking_? "Stop laughing," he gritted out, "because I'm serious. If you keep using that shot, you'll ruin your shoulder, and—"

"Mizuki-san." Yuuta reached out and caught Hajime's wrist as he began to gesticulate. "Shut up. I know." He was still grinning, and the lights over the court made his face gleam.

"If you know, then why are you still using it?" Hajime demanded.

Yuuta's grin slipped away. "Because I wanted you to tell me to stop." He let Hajime go, and rolled his shoulder a bit. "And you did."

Hajime stared at him. "Why?"

Yuuta was quiet for so long that Hajime wondered if he was going to answer at all. Finally, Yuuta shrugged. "Because you needed to be able to tell me to stop." He tipped his head. "You're a good tennis player, Mizuki-san. You should play more often."

Hajime opened his mouth to respond, but Yuuta cut him off. "Anyway. Let's finish this match before you die of heatstroke, huh?" And he ambled back to his side of the net like astonishing acts of perception were all in a day's work, and called the score as if the three points he'd taken with the Twist Spin had never happened, and went on to win the match, six games to Hajime's four, without using that shot again.

Later, Hajime would pin that moment of generosity as the one when he fell in love with Fuji Yuuta.

**end**


End file.
